A Hobbit's Weakness is Food
by Elven Victory
Summary: Takes place during the ROTK, in Mordor. Frodo seems to be confused about where Mount Doom is, Sam really brought a feast with him, and everyone takes a quick run to the Shire. One-shot. No slash. Interesting, if you're bored.


A Hobbit's Weakness is Food  
  
Disclaimer - anything you recognize in this story belongs to, of course, J.R.R Tolkien or the corresponding owners and not me. I don't own anything.  
  
Warning – this story has mild Return of the King spoilers in it, I think.  
  
Note – This story is full of really stupid humour, which is really pathetic. But, it may make you laugh, or it may not. Also, in case you were wondering, this was originally meant for a chapter in the Return of the Ring, yet I thought it would be better as a separate one. Anyhow...let us get on with the story.  
  
Other note – as I said, there's no slash!  
  
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Frodo and Sam walked up the slopes of Mount Doom, tired and weak from their journey. Frodo collapsed onto a large rock and remained there for a while, too feeble to call his friend back, who was now climbing further and further up the slope. The air was thick with haze, and the sounds of battle could be heard in the distance.  
  
"Sam..." the ring bearer said weakly, lying flat on the rock. "Sam, I'm too weak. I cannot go any further."  
  
His companion turned round to look at him, his eyes full of sorrow. He slid back down the slope, to where Frodo was, and pulled him upright.  
  
"I'm tired, too. But you know, we might as well carry on." He pulled out a water skin and held it up to the light. Then, he drank from it, but soon stopped. He shook the bottle hard, but no sound of water could be heard from inside. "Crime! There's only a few drops left. Mr Frodo, I shall die!"  
  
"What about me, Sam?" Frodo asked weakly. "I am not so thirsty as I am hungry."  
  
His companion stared at him sadly, the empty water bottle still clutched in his hand.  
  
"We don't have much food. Not enough to last us, anyway. We should save it, or I should have it all. You aren't weak, Mr Frodo – take up your Ring and journey out yonder, and make haste! I shall not want you eatin' my food, and it would be better for both of us if you weren't around at all."  
  
"That isn't very nice, Sam. But you do have food?"  
  
"Yes, but –"  
  
"Food is for eating!" Frodo exclaimed, sitting up on his rock. He now looked cheerful. "Come – we must have a picnic with what's left – we will remember this joyous occasion!"  
  
Sam looked at him and smiled.  
  
"Mr Frodo, you're completely right! Come!"  
  
So, both began walking back up the slopes of the mountain, a spring in their step. They soon found a small, flat area of land on the volcano, and they both sat here, sheltered from the winds by the tall rocks. Sam laid out a large, red-chequered cloth and put his rucksack onto the ground. Then, he let out a sigh of dismay at looking into it.  
  
"What have we got to eat?" Frodo asked, rubbing his hands together and smiling.  
  
"Nothing!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Nothing! Well, some, but there ain't enough to last us 'till we're able to destroy the ring! And it'll all have to be cooked."  
  
Frodo leant back against a rock behind him.  
  
"Well, take it out anyway," he said quietly.  
  
So Sam put his hand into his rucksack and pulled out some meat, vegetables, tins and boxes.  
  
"We've got eight chickens, five turkeys, two ducks, three geese, a steak, two boxes of sage and onion stuffing mix, eight carrots, two lettuces, eight punnets of strawberries, four bags of frozen peas, eight bags of cauliflower, five tomatoes, five tins of stewed steak, seven tins of baked beans, ten tins of spaghetti hoops, a tin of golden syrup, one kilogram of sugar, eight tins of red kidney beans, six packets of homemade chocolate- chip biscuits, Earl Grey loose tea, real coffee beans, orange juice, twenty apples, fourteen bananas, fifteen peaches, eight litres of wine, two of the rarest and most expensive bottles of champagne in all of Middle-Earth, a pot of cream, two crystal champagne flutes and some bread. No, Mr Frodo, we'll never have enough to last us."  
  
Frodo sighed.  
  
"No, Sam, this just won't do. Maybe if we have a tiny bit of each, then it might last."  
  
"But how do we cook it? We cannot eat raw meat – even though they are Elven chickens, geese, ducks and turkeys. We cannot make a fire upon the hillside this windy day."  
  
Frodo looked thoughtful for a minute. Then, his eyes became very bright.  
  
"I saw a fire, Sam - A fire where we could cook everything here! It's not far from here, and it's really warm. That would be perfect for our picnic!"  
  
Sam smiled and began gathering up all the food and the cloth.  
  
"That's a great idea. Where is it, this place?"  
  
"Follow me."  
  
So they began walking again. Over the many rocks and up the steep slope they walked. It wasn't far to the place the ring bearer spoke of, and it was sheltered. In fact, Frodo led Sam into the very heart of Mount Doom, where the lava and the fires spat up. But the hobbits took no notice of the angry fire and sat down on the ledge, where they could look at the rolling flame. Sam took his cloth and the food out again, smiling.  
  
"Isn't this nice, Sam?" Frodo questioned, sitting cross-legged near the very edge. "You can cook the meat over the fire and then we can carry on with our journey."  
  
"Maybe you would have been fine on your own if I hadn't come with you, after all!" The other hobbit laughed.  
  
"No, Sam," Frodo smiled. "I'm glad you came with me."  
  
The other hobbit smiled, took out some saucepans and began pouring the tinned peas into one. Then, he tied some Elven rope round all of the meat and hung it over the side of the ledge to roast. The flames of Mount Doom licked the poultry and began cooking it.  
  
"That'll cook nicely," the gardener remarked, holding the saucepan over the flame. Frodo helped, too. He held a saucepan full of cauliflower over the fire.  
  
"This is the life..." the ring bearer said softly. "How long do you think it will take, Sam? Should I close my eyes and get some sleep?"  
  
"No, not unless you want me to eat your dinner," Sam smiled. "You know how long it will take to cook, Mr Frodo."  
  
As they sat there, holding the saucepans over the ledge, the whole mountain was filled with the scent of roast chicken, roast duck and roast turkey. When Sam poured the stuffing mix into the saucepan, sage and onion was added to that smell that filled Mount Doom.  
  
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Aragorn, meanwhile, was busy fighting with the many Orcs in Mordor. He was trying to create a diversion for Frodo and Sam, hoping that they would be able to destroy the Ring. But it was Legolas that suddenly stopped fighting and sniffed the air.  
  
"The air does not smell tainted any more," he said, more to himself than anyone. "It smells of-" he took another sniff, "-roast duck!"  
  
"Do not be foolish, Legolas!" Aragorn cried, as he chopped an Orc's head off with his sword. "It is your imagination!"  
  
"But not just any old duck," The Elf continued. "Elven duck, mixed with Elven chicken and Elven turkey!"  
  
"Elven turkey?" Gimli yelled.  
  
Legolas sniffed the air again and looked over to Mount Doom, which stood looming over them.  
  
"It is coming from the mountain!" He yelled. "Someone is cooking Elven meat in Mount Doom! Unless it is the hobbits – Aragorn, I think Frodo and Sam are being cooked!"  
  
The Orcs that had surrounded Legolas before he had begun speaking looked at each other, as if to say that he was mad. But then, they began to sniff around with the Elf. The Orc that Aragorn was about to kill had also stopped fighting and was looking at the mountain with mild interest.  
  
"Yeah!" One Orc yelled. "He's right – they're cooking! But it don't smell like flesh to me."  
  
Soon, everyone had stopped fighting and was stepping over the dead to see where the smell of cooking meat was coming from. Everyone was gathered round the foot of the mountain – even the Orcs, and they were all sniffing round. The great Eye was also on Mount Doom, watching, even though there was no such thing as 'Sauron's Nose'.  
  
"What do you think it is?" One Orc whispered to Legolas, who shook his head.  
  
"I am an Elf, friend, and I have never smelt anything quite so delicious in my life! There is also a hint of onion and sage there. Can you smell it?"  
  
The Orc licked his lips.  
  
"Yeah – I can smell it! With carrots, too!"  
  
"But – peaches!" Gimli said suddenly. "I smell peaches and cream – and bananas!"  
  
"This is foolish," Aragorn muttered. He had not started to sniff around, but had stayed on the battlefield, even though there was no one to fight with. "It is your imagination. Legolas, get the map."  
  
"Give us a moment!" The Elf cried, sniffing again. "I think it smells like an Elven dinner with a fruit salad for desert! Fit for an Elf!"  
  
"Yeah!" An Orc cried. "Let's go and 'ave some!"  
  
So the Orcs began climbing the slopes of the mountain, hungry and anxious. Legolas followed them, as did Gimli. Aragorn sighed, but gave in and followed his enemies.  
  
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Sam and Frodo, meanwhile, had pulled the poultry back in and were now slicing it with a long, sharp knife they had brought with them. They had laid out all of the food and had spooned tinned meat and peas into some china bowls, added the sage-and-onion stuffing mix to the chickens and had made tea and coffee to drink.  
  
"This smells delicious," Frodo said, smelling the hot, meat-like smell that came from the chicken.  
  
"I agree! Shame we don't have more," Sam replied, taking some slices of turkey and spreading them onto the two china plates evenly. He then took a large, porcelain mug and poured fresh coffee into it. "That's for you."  
  
"Thanks, Sam."  
  
They sat there on the chequered cloth, admiring the beauty of the flames that licked the walkway they were sitting on. Frodo leant closer to the edge and looked into the lava below.  
  
"It is a pity we cannot stay here," he began. "This seems like the perfect place to destroy the Ring, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes, Mr Frodo, but you heard what Lord Elrond said. It can only be destroyed in Mordor, and we're far from there now, aren't we?"  
  
"A long way, Sam. But couldn't we just see what happens if we throw it in?" Frodo questioned, taking a sip of his coffee. Sam shook his head and handed him a knife and fork, which were silver-plated.  
  
"It's too risky. We might lose it, and then it won't be destroyed – ever."  
  
"But it would be safe from prying eyes," Frodo replied, his tone of voice more forceful. The conversation ended there. Sam shifted uncomfortably on the cloth.  
  
They ate and drank in silence, thinking that it was a lovely place to be. There were lovely sounds of lava beneath them, and they both felt very secure where they were. Just as Sam was pouring Frodo some more coffee, however, Gollum appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Smeagol!" He cried, taking a step forwards. The hobbits were too shocked to speak, and the coffee was overfilling Frodo's cup and falling into the lava below. Sam saw this and quickly moved his teapot away.  
  
"No, it's ours! Besides, you can't eat hobbit food!" The gardener cried.  
  
"We are famished! Famished we are, Precioussss!"  
  
"Here," Frodo said casually, slicing one of the peaches in half and throwing it to Gollum.  
  
The creature caught the half of the fruit greedily and began chewing it, and he did not choke.  
  
"Mr Frodo, he can eat that 'cos it's soft for him. Not like the bread we gave him that time," Sam remarked.  
  
"We like hobbitses food. Master's kind to us," Smeagol said, walking over to Frodo and sitting on the cloth.  
  
"Do you want some more?" The ring bearer questioned, holding the teapot up. "This is coffee, but we have tea if you prefer that – and orange juice."  
  
But Gollum shook his head and took the other half of the peach. Then, he bit into it and swallowed. His eyes widened, as if he thought it tasted lovely, and he grabbed an apple from the bowl that had been laid out neatly on the cloth. Frodo and Sam watched him eat.  
  
"You like that?" Frodo asked, earning a nod from Gollum, who had already eaten the apple. "Have another!"  
  
"Now, don't be too greedy," said Sam sternly. "We don't have that much."  
  
"The fat hobbit wants it all!" Gollum cried. "The fat hobbit wantsss to eat it all and leave none for poor, poor Smeagol! Famissshed we are! Famished Presciousss!"  
  
"Leave him alone, Sam, and don't be greedy" Frodo said, taking a large slice of chicken from his plate and biting into it. But his companion wasn't listening – his gaze was suddenly diverted to Frodo's dagger, which had now turned blue. "Sam?"  
  
"Mr Frodo!" The gardener exclaimed, pointing to it. "The Orcs are coming for us! They want our dinner! Hide it! Make haste, make haste, Mr Frodo!"  
  
Frodo looked at his sword and gasped. He gathered everything up that was on the cloth and put it behind him and Sam, sitting on some of it. They had to hide it – they couldn't let the Orcs get it. Gollum saw what they were doing and ran behind the two hobbits, also anxious to safe the dinner.  
  
"Quick, Mr Frodo, look as if you're trying to destroy the Ring!" Sam cried anxiously. Frodo took the Ring from around his neck and held his hand up, as if about to throw the necklace into the fire.  
  
"The smell of chicken Sam! What do we do about that?" The ring bearer asked.  
  
Sam instantly began waving his arms around to try and get rid of the scent of cooking meat, but, alas! The Orcs appeared in the doorway. The hobbits and Gollum moved closer together so none of the creatures would see what was behind them.  
  
"Give us some!" One Orc cried.  
  
"Yeah! We came all this way!"  
  
"We do not know what you're talking about!" Frodo said, holding the Ring higher still. "I'm trying to destroy this – don't put me off!"  
  
"Don't try and hide it!" Another Orc yelled, stepping closer to the hobbits. "We know you've got food – and lots of it!"  
  
"Go away!" Gollum yelled. "Leave us, poor Smeagol!"  
  
"We haven't got much!" Sam cried, almost in tears.  
  
But, they were saved! Legolas appeared in the crowd of Orcs that were gaining on them. He looked hungry and thirsty. But he didn't try and save the hobbits.  
  
"Give me some!" He cried. "You have plenty! You have enough there to fill the stomachs of a grown army!"  
  
Sam and Frodo moved closer to the end of the platform, pushing their food with them. But the Orcs still took steps towards them, hungry with fighting. Faramir and Theoden appeared a few minutes later, as they knew what was going on, but they were on the Orcs' side.  
  
"No!" Frodo cried. He took a chocolate biscuit out of one of the plastic packets and put it into the palm of his hand, for the Ring was now lying on the platform. "It's mine – not yours, mine! It's my precious..."  
  
"Just give us a bit o' steak," one Orc said softly, taking yet another step towards the hobbits. "Or a bit o' that chicken."  
  
"There isn't enough to feed you all!" Sam yelled, making the whole volcano shake slightly. Frodo looked extremely anxious, his gaze then being set on the Ring. He picked it up slowly, staring down at it – but it didn't seem to take hold of him anymore. He showed it to the crowd that was gaining on them.  
  
"You can have this, if you back away!" He cried. "You can have the Ring – what you've always wanted – and then leave us!"  
  
"No," Faramir said softly. "It is not the same. Give us some food – you can keep the Ring."  
  
"We are hungry!" Legolas shouted, his eyes filling with greediness and anger.  
  
"Nasty Elvesess will steal the preciousss from us!" Gollum said. "They will come for the precious!"  
  
Frodo looked behind him, where there was only a small distance between him and the very end of the walkway. He closed his eyes tightly.  
  
"Mr Frodo?" Sam asked him quickly, looking from the approaching Orcs to his companion. "Come on, Mr Frodo!"  
  
"I can't do this, Sam."  
  
"Yes you can!"  
  
"The Eye is upon me, Sam. It has failed. I can feel it. Sauron wants the food all for himself."  
  
"He's talking nonsense," Theoden remarked. Then, he laughed.  
  
"Will you give us some to eat?" Aragorn questioned the hobbits, holding out his hand. But Legolas suddenly made a hushing noise to tell them to be quiet.  
  
There was silence for a minute. There seemed to be an enormous rumble coming from the lava below, and the flames seemed to come even higher. Legolas looked at it.  
  
"The volcano," he whispered, in disbelief. Then, his eyes widened. "GET OUT!"  
  
"Why?" One Orc questioned.  
  
"THE VOLCANO IS GOING TO ERUPT! SAURON MUST BE ANGRY THAT HE CAN'T HAVE ANY FOOD!"  
  
As this cry registered, the Orcs suddenly made towards the only entrance, as did Legolas, Theoden, Aragorn and Faramir. Frodo and Sam looked at each other and sat up at lightening speed. The ring bearer grabbed Gollum and rushed off with him, but it made him too slow. Sam was a long way ahead of him before he looked round.  
  
"Come on, Mr Frodo!" He called, half-wanting to leave him there.  
  
"Sam!" Frodo collapsed onto the walkway and let Gollum go. The creature ran off out of the main entrance, where the last of the Orcs were hurrying.  
  
"Come on!" Sam called again.  
  
"Yeah!" An Orc cried.  
  
Frodo managed to grab the ring behind him before getting up off the walkway and running off. He got to the main entrance, but didn't stop – he carried on running with the others down the slopes of Mount Doom. All of a sudden the mountain shook violently and lava burst out of the place they were just in. It made its way down where the slopes, and the army of Orcs, Men, Dwarves, Hobbits and Elves tried to run faster. Eventually, they got off the mountain and ran onto the Plain of Mordor, where the Eye was watching them – they still didn't stop. They ran, the lava chasing them, and finally got to the edge of Mordor, where the mountains were. Still, the lava didn't stop.  
  
"It is gaining on us!" Frodo choked, as they approached the Black Gate. It was only then that they realised just how far they had run – in a few minutes! He turned to Sam, who was running alongside him.  
  
"Keep running, Mr Frodo!" yelled his friend.  
  
"Open the gate!" An Orc yelled, earning strange looks from the guards above. The lava of Mount Doom was approaching. The Gate opened slowly, and the army ran out of Mordor, breathless. They watched as the Gate closed, for it had only opened a little, and the lava was trapped.  
  
"What fun, precious!" Gollum cried, skipping round everyone with sudden joy.  
  
"The Eye is still watching us," Frodo said quietly. "And I didn't even collect all that lovely food!"  
  
"Mr Frodo," Sam began, "we better get a move on to Mordor – we've got a long way to go yet."  
  
"You're right, Sam. I am ready to leave this place."  
  
"We were almost killed!" Aragorn panted. He looked at the Orc who had called for the Gate to be opened. "Thank you, friend. You have done us proud."  
  
"Yeah!" Another Orc screeched, patting his friend on the back. "We could've been killed!"  
  
But Legolas did not join everyone in their discussions. He had something else on his mind.  
  
"Where is Gimli?" He questioned, after looking round the open space and then up at the mountains surrounding them. "Where is my Dwarf-friend?"  
  
Everyone looked at him and then began searching, but no one could see Gimli.  
  
"He must have been left there," stated Aragorn, his voice full of mild sadness. "I am sorry, Legolas, but he would be dead by now."  
  
Legolas just looked at him, confused, and began walking away from the group. Everyone, including the Orcs, felt mild grief for him as they watched him leave.  
  
"Smeagol!" Frodo suddenly cried out, pointing to a rock that was a few feet from him. "Remember this, Smeagol? Why, it looks familiar!"  
  
Gollum stared at the place where his master was pointing, but it didn't jog any memories for him. It was Sam who suddenly let out a quiet gasp.  
  
"Mr Frodo! We were here a long time ago – when we realised that we couldn't get through the Black Gate 'cos it was closed! I remember!"  
  
"Gollum led us here," the ring bearer continued, turning to his friend. "Oh Sam, we've been going round in circles! Mordor must be miles away now. Come on, Sam, we've got to get going."  
  
The three of them – Frodo, Sam and Gollum – began walking away from the group up the mountains. They had got half way up one hill (the same hill as Frodo had slid down) before Aragorn looked at them and called to them.  
  
"Where are you going?" He cried. "Did you manage to destroy the Ring?"  
  
Sam turned round and looked down on the whole crowd.  
  
"No – that wasn't Mordor!" He replied.  
  
"Mount Doom's miles away from here, Aragorn!" Frodo called. "Sam and I have a long way to go!"  
  
Everyone suddenly fell into discussion.  
  
"Not Mordor?" One Orc whispered. "Why – I'll kill Saruman!"  
  
"Surely not? It looks so much like it!" Aragorn whispered to Faramir, who shook his head.  
  
"I can see now that there are a lot of differences between Mordor and this place," the young captain of Gondor replied.  
  
"Isn't there a huge resemblance?" Theoden asked one Orc, who nodded. "I really thought it was Mordor!"  
  
Aragorn turned to look back up to the hobbits, who had now reached the summit of the hill.  
  
"We are coming with you!" He called, earning plenty of nods from the others. "We want to see Mordor too! You have my sword, again."  
  
"And our clubs!" One Orc yelled.  
  
"And you have my bow," Legolas said, for he had now returned and was starting to make his way up the hill. He was carrying Gimli in his arms.  
  
"And my axe!" The Dwarf yelled.  
  
"You carry the fates of us all, little ones. And be It by my life or my death that I can protect you, I shall," Faramir replied, bowing slightly at the hobbits who had stopped to stare down at them. "But don't think I'm going to give you any food if I find it!"  
  
Legolas sighed.  
  
"Ninety thousand companions..." he said. "We shall be known as the Fellowship of the Ring!"  
  
"Yesterday we fought, today we ride!" Aragorn yelled, earning lots of nods from the crowd. He let out a cry and ran up the hill to join the hobbits, the rest of army running after him. The hobbits let out a yell of joy and ran.  
  
They ran over the mountains, through the woods, through a city and back over the mountains. Then they ran over a large plain. They didn't stop, and they didn't realise that they were actually heading back towards Helm's Deep.  
  
"Shall we continue?" Legolas asked the others, when they had stopped a little way from Rohan. The hobbits took a breath of air, for it was fresher than the air at Mordor.  
  
"We do not stop until nightfall, gentlemen," Aragorn replied, the words being directed to all ninety thousand of the group. "And even then we will run – run far away – until we die and fall!"  
  
"No!" Frodo yelled, now realising that their swordsman wanted to kill them. "We can't run that far!"  
  
"I want you to die – all of you!" Aragorn yelled. "Come! We will run again – run into the distance!"  
  
And with that, he sprinted off towards the mountains, the Orcs chasing him. Legolas and Faramir then followed, as did the rest of the group, rather reluctantly. They ran over the Plains of Rohan and reached Helm's Deep, though they did not stop and continued to run. Not even when they reached the first of the Misty Mountains near Isengard did they stop, but carried on sprinting, over the great mountains. They all reached Moria, but did not yet pause for breath! The sky did not yet grow dark, for they had only been running for half an hour. Gimli was now free from Legolas's clutches and was able to lead everyone into the Mines, and they ran through there. Everything they passed seemed like a blur to them, for they were going so fast.  
  
"I'm hungry again, Mr Frodo," Sam panted as he ran with the group of ninety thousand.  
  
"I had to leave that food there, Sam. Don't fear, we will be in Rivendell soon, and we can eat as much as we like."  
  
They reached the entrance to the Mines of Moria and ran, again, without any need to stop. The Orcs were enjoying the walk, or run, and did not complain. Even when they had to climb down the mountains did they pause, but just jogged all the way. Then they sprinted over another Plain and reached Rivendell, and they suddenly stopped.  
  
"That was nice," Aragorn said. "I wonder when we will get to Mordor?"  
  
Elrond appeared a few seconds later, dressed in a blue tracksuit.  
  
"Did you enjoy your run at one point two miles per second?" he asked. Legolas gasped.  
  
"You mean we were going that slow? I'm getting old. I can feel it in my bones, I'm going to die!" He put his hand onto his brow and fell back.  
  
"Well carry on running," Elrond said. He gave a whistle, and thousands of Elves suddenly appeared from nowhere. They stuffed food into everyone's mouths and then disappeared. "You still have one thousand miles to go – at the speed you were running, you should reach it in thirteen minutes."  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened.  
  
"We do not have much time! We must run now! Come!" He cried. "Bye, Arwen!"  
  
"Goodbye!" yelled a voice from somewhere.  
  
Elrond waved to them as they all ran again, though they were going so fast that they couldn't even see him. Before they knew it, they were at Weathertop, and then they appeared in Bree, and then in the Shire. Frodo, not remembering the strange buildings, pointed to his own house and gasped.  
  
"This must be Mordor!" He panted.  
  
"Yes," Faramir sighed. "Why did we ever think that place was Mordor? This, you can tell from anywhere, is Mordor. Look at the quality of the soil – this is volcanic soil!"  
  
Aragorn gasped and pointed to Bilbo's house.  
  
"There's Mount Doom!" He cried.  
  
Sam looked at his companion.  
  
"That was a harrowing journey, Mr Frodo, but we're safe now."  
  
"Yes, Sam, we must cast the ring into that volcano over there. I didn't think it was green, though. It looks like a hole."  
  
"Yeah! Destroy it!" One Orc yelled.  
  
So, Frodo took a deep breath and headed towards his own house. He opened the circular door, took one last look at The Shire (or Mordor, in his case) and disappeared into the hill. Everyone watched him leave with bated breath.  
  
"Let us hope that no Orcs find us here," Legolas said.  
  
"Yeah!" One Orc cried. "Let's hope they don't catch us!"  
  
Sam took a step forwards, as if to join his friend in the hill, but Aragorn held him back.  
  
"He will be fine on his own, Master Gamgee," he told him. Sam looked at him and nodded, but when he suddenly saw someone approaching them, he gasped.  
  
"Orc!" He yelled at the hobbit who was walking towards them. "Kill it!"  
  
"What is this?" The hobbit, who was really Bilbo Baggins, questioned. But, alas, Legolas found him to be a threat, pulled out his bow and arrow and shot him.  
  
Frodo appeared a second after that, looking worried and anxious.  
  
"I did it," he said. "I left it in there – it is done. It has been destroyed."  
  
Everyone suddenly burst into applause for the hobbit, smiling.  
  
"Well done," Aragorn said.  
  
"You have done us proud," Legolas told him.  
  
"Give us a speech!" Faramir cried.  
  
"Yeah!" An Orc screeched. The whole crowd fell silent.  
  
Frodo smiled.  
  
"I am glad that you're with me, here at the end of all things. You have all done me proud, for I don't think I could have done it without you. This may be Mordor, but you have all brightened my spirits. If you see any Orcs, I want you to kill them."  
  
"When will we get home, Mr Frodo? When will we see the Shire again?" Sam questioned.  
  
"Oh, Sam, we have a long way to go yet."  
  
Everyone applauded, including the Orcs. Of course, this attracted the attention of some hobbits (who lived in Hobbiton) and they had come to have a look. Unfortunately, when they saw Bilbo dead, they thought that the whole crowd were intruders.  
  
"Who do you think you are? Leave our town now!" One hobbit cried, attracting the attention of the ninety thousand members of the army.  
  
"Kill it!" One Orc yelled.  
  
"Look out! There's a nasty, aggressive intruder, Mr Legolas!" Sam cried, pointing to a female hobbit who was now trying to steal the Elf's bow. He got out an arrow and killed it – unfortunately, the hobbit went by the name of Rosie Cotton.  
  
Once all the hobbits had fled, the army ran, once again. They sprinted out of Hobbiton and into Bree, but it was Frodo who suddenly gave a loud whistle, telling everyone to halt. They did.  
  
"Merry and Pippin have been left where we were almost three-quarters of an hour ago!" The ring bearer yelled. "We must go and get them, or they'll be worried for us!"  
  
"Yeah!" An Orc cried.  
  
"Leave it to me," Faramir told Frodo, appearing by his side and waving his hands. "I will go, though I will have to run fast." With that, he sprinted off in the direction they had just come from, though no one saw him disappear (he was going to fast for the eye to see).  
  
Aragorn sighed, looked round at the group and began to whistle to himself.  
  
"Nice day. Are we out of Mordor yet?" He asked.  
  
"I think so," Theoden replied, spinning round on the spot he was standing on. Eight seconds from when Faramir had left, he came running back to the army, Merry and Pippin at his heels.  
  
"There you go," he said. "Was it fast enough? I had to travel at nine hundred thousand miles per hour."  
  
"Yes, though you could have been faster," Gimli told him.  
  
"Look Pippin, It's Frodo Baggins!" Merry exclaimed.  
  
"I thought we'd never see him again!" Pippin replied. They both patted him on the back, but a whistle from Aragorn told them that they had to run again. So they ran! Over the land, marshes and mountains. From what Faramir could see, they were now running across snow and ice, but they all suddenly came to a halt when a massive face appeared from behind a large mountain, sending shivers down everyone's spines. There it was – a face – looming over them all, and Frodo recognized it immediately! It was Sauron's face. He looked down upon everyone – his head as big as Mount Doom itself – and a hand appeared from behind the mountain.  
  
"Give me some food," the Dark Lord bellowed, his voice deafening. His hand reached out for the Orcs and he scooped some up. Then, he put them into his gigantic mouth and swallowed them whole. The rest of the Fellowship backed away on the ice, trying to hide, but he was too quick. He grabbed another handful of them – Frodo in the group – and moved his hand closer to his mouth...this was it...this was the end...there was no turning back now...Sauron was hungry...he would surely eat them all...  
  
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End file.
